Losing Sirius
by N16
Summary: A brief story in which Harry allows himself to think about Sirius for the first time since he died, and received some advice from an unexpected source. complete


Harry sat on the curb, staring at the house across the street. He'd come to this exact same spot every day for nearly two weeks. As he absentmindedly petted the cat rubbing against his legs, he wondered again if he was still being watched regularly. He kept his eyes open for the guardians he felt must still be trailing him, but he had never caught sight of them.

The cat left Harry and scampered off to the house across the street. He pawed on the door and meowed, and Mrs. Figg opened the door to let him in. She squinted across the street at Harry, and sighed.

"Are you going to come in, or just sit there all summer?" She asked, the exasperation in her voice telling Harry that she had been aware of his presence for at least several days. Slowly, he stood to his feet and crossed the street.

The house was just as Harry remembered it, even though it had been years since he'd been inside. Looking around now, he wondered how on earth he'd ever missed the fact that Mrs. Figg was connected to the magical world. The signs were subtle, but they were there. Sometimes on the pictures would blink, or very subtly adjust positions. Among the typical muggle books in her bookcase there were such titles as "Famous Squibs in History" and "Simple Spells from A to Z".

"Would you like some tea, Harry?" Mrs. Figg asked as she led them into the kitchen. He nodded, still silent. "Have a seat, I'll fix some."

Harry sat down, watching her bustle around the kitchen. A few minutes later she joined him at the table, a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of tea on the table. He picked up a sandwich and nibbled at it unenthusiastically. Mrs. Figg watched him closely, her face concerned.

"I don't imagine you're here to visit your old babysitter because you had a dose of nostalgia," she said finally, and Harry shrugged. The truth was he didn't mind just visiting Mrs. Figg. Even if she was a squib, she at least knew about the magical world. Just being around her was a relief from the stifling muggle-ness of the Dursley household.

"There was an article in the Daily Prophet last week," she said when it was clear Harry wasn't going to speak. "They're looking into Dumbledore's claims Peter Pettigrew is still alive, and Sirius Black was innocent." Harry head snapped up.

"Really? They might clear Sirius?" He said, the unexpected news causing his heart to jump a bit. Just as quickly, though, the depression returned even more heavily. They might be clearing Sirius, but that didn't change the fact that he was dead.

"That's what they're trying to do. They're going to have Remus Lupin testify, along with Dumbledore himself, and perhaps Ron Weasley. Dumbledore is even trying to get Severus Snape to testify to what he saw the night you met Sirius for the first time. Though Severus wasn't awake for much it," Mrs. Figg smirked a bit at this, "his story would at least verify the others for some extent."

"I can testify too," Harry said. In his mind, he saw himself facing Fudge and telling him exactly what had happened. He imagine Fudge looking remorseful and embarrassed as yet another of his blatant errors of judgment was brought to light...

"No," Mrs. Figg said, shaking her head. "I'm afraid that can't happen, though I know you would certainly be willing to. It would be an unnecessary chance to take at this point. I know the Order wants to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible for now. The only reason Dumbledore even agreed to ask the Ministry of Magic to reconsider the case was because of Remus. He seems to think that clearing Siruis' name would be a kind of gift for you – something good that might make you feel better with all the bad happening right now." Mrs. Figg fell quiet, still studying Harry with those concerned eyes. "Harry," she said, "how are you doing? I talked with Molly Weasley for a quite a while last week, and she told me how close you and Sirius Black were."

The silence after this statement lasted for a long time, until Harry knew she wouldn't give up until she had some kind of response. He sighed, and pushed the plate with the nearly whole sandwich away.

"I'm fine," he muttered, focusing now on stirring his cup of tea.

"Fine?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. "Less than month after your godfather died?"

Harry shrugged. "It's not like I've never been touched by death before." He winced, realizing that his voice had come out bitter rather than neutral like he'd intended.

Mrs. Figg's smile looked bitter as well. "Most people suffer to lose two parents in their lifetime. You've already had to deal with losing three."

The injustice of this struck Harry new again, and he felt indignation and rage burn white-hot inside. For the first time since she'd opened the door, Harry looked her in the eye. He was surprised by the pained compassion he saw there, as though she knew about the darkness that had been suffocating him. He had seen only a trace of that understanding in Luna's face before he's left Hogwarts, and not even a hint of that comprehension in the faces of his friends. To his surprise, he uttered the childish words that he'd been trying to ignore since the first moment he'd understood that Siruis was gone!

"It's not fair!" He said the words thickly, his voice tight with anger rather than grief.

"No, it's not fair," she agreed quietly. "It's not even a little bit fair. People have said some crazy things about your life in the past fifteen years, but I've never heard someone be so foolish as to claim that it was fair – or easy, for that matter."

Harry pulled his plate back towards him and took a bite of his sandwich as he studied Mrs. Figg across the table. She wasn't just saying these things to pacify him. He could tell she really meant what she said. Perhaps three weeks with the Dursleys had already gone to his head, but it suddenly seemed that no one else in the world understood him quite like this crazy woman with the cats.

"I was so stupid," he said quietly, reaching down to pet one of the cats. Mrs. Figg raised her eyebrows questioningly. "They told me not to let him into my mind. Hermione knew it was a trick. How could I have gone into such an obvious trap?"

Mrs. Figg shook her head. "I'm not like Dumbledore," she said. "I'm not full of wisdom like he is. All I can tell you is that it isn't your fault. You didn't throw the curse at Sirius – you didn't kill him."

"But it's my fault he died," Harry said pointedly, his expression suddenly very blank, and his voice holding no trace of self-pity.

Mrs. Figg sat in silence for a moment, chewing her lip as she stared at Harry with frustrated concern. Finally she sighed again, and said, "There are some thing worth dying for, Harry."

The words hit Harry like a brick wall, and he could nearly hear Sirius's voice saying the words with her. Quickly, he fought the memory out of his mind. Memories of Sirius were still too painful to allow.

Mrs. Figg continued, oblivious to the affect of these words on Harry. "But you already know that, Harry. You've risked your life more than once. You know what it means to be willing to sacrifice yourself.

Harry stared at the table, once again refusing to meet her eyes. She hesitated, then continued.

"I only knew Sirius Black through the Order, and quite frankly, I though he tended to be whiny and sulky. He annoyed me a bit. But one thing I can say for him – he would have done anything for you. He would have done anything for James. His loyalty and his love were far more important to him than anything else, and he died for that. I can't think of a better way for a man to die. I think perhaps," she smiled gently, "you are as much like Sirius as you are like James. You also would die for those you love, wouldn't you Harry? If the roles had been reversed – would you have died for Sirius?"

Harry's hands were shaking as he nodded.

"And if you had done so, would you have wanted him to spend his life in pain because of what you had done?"

Harry pictured Sirius, alive and suffering in guilt and misery. Sirius alive. He quickly forced that thought out his head as well. Picturing Sirius alive was perhaps the only thing more painful than remembering him.

Harry stood up, his head feeling full and confused. "I should go," he said. "Thanks for the tea."

Mrs. Figg nodded. "Any time, Harry," she said. "Come visit anytime you like."

As he walked out of the front door, he thought he felt worse than when he had first entered. Stubbornly, he told himself, _the crazy woman doesn't know what she's talking about. It's my fault. My fault he's dead. _Still, the guilt seemed a little bit lighter than it had that morning, and his breath seemed to come more easily. Though he wouldn't let himself think it, a part of him very deep down began to wonder if maybe he could make it through all this, even without Sirius. Even without the only father he'd ever known.

He hurried back to the Dursley's house, and upstairs to his room. For the first time since arriving back at 4 Privet Drive, Harry cried.


End file.
